Longing
by Pachelbel
Summary: [Finished] Few Sindarin Elves have seen the Sea. What should be a gift has become a curse, and once Legolas begins to see the mortality of his friends, he feels he has only two places left to go: to Mirkwood, where they are free of the Sea Longing, or..
1. Part One

Author's Note: Well, here it is...my 2nd LotR fic. What am I coming to? Some things to consider while reading: I'm depressed right now...on top of that I'm missing my boyfriend...so this is, big shocker, angsty. However, I like the canon as it is, so there is no romance in here unless it was done by Tolkien. He hasn't told me to pair up his characters with anyone new, so you'll be pretty disappointed if you're reading this for Legolas Lovin'. 

The Silmarillion is highly recommended, it may or may not make this an easier read. Probably not, but I'm reading it now, so it will have a teeny impact on this story. And now that I've talked myself in a circle, I'll just let you read, mmkay? 

Well, one more thing. I did NOT want to do it, but I had to: I named Legolas' brothers. *cringes* But since I don't think Tolkien ever did, I gave them temporary names. It's a short story, anyway, so I guess it doesn't matter.   
  


Longing

"The forest is quiet, Father."

Thranduil turned his head to look at his son; it was the closest thing to a startled jolt Legolas had seen from him since the prince had been a child. Legolas, early on, had learned that the saying 'you'd have to get up pretty early to get the jump on him' was not strictly true. Not if you let 'him' only have two hours of sleep a week. 

Calmly, the King pointed out, "You have been, as well, Legolas."

If a glance was the only sign of the King's surprise, then his statement was the strongest sign of his relief. Father and son had been virtually inseparable since Legolas' return to Eryn Lasgalen, the kingdom formerly called Mirkwood, but not even the sharpest ears could have heard any conversation between them. When the prince had first arrived, Thranduil could not coax a word out of him, and after the second day he had stopped trying. It was not for an interrogation that Legolas had come home.

Now he watched his son closely, trying to gauge the wisdom of asking him a question that would, one way or another, get a reaction. 

And Thranduil, who appeared no older than his sons except for the depths of wisdom in his eyes, decided that, it would be unfair, and even cruel to ask such questions this soon. He settled on a suggestion. "Do you wish to take a walk?"

The prince nodded slowly and followed him out.   
  


********

  


"Legolas, I am troubled."

Thranduil found he couldn't be silent any longer. The younger Elf looked up from a small freshwater pond, where bright orange fish were swimming lazily about each other. Legolas' expression asked all the questions Thranduil would rather have heard.

The King moved forward, and stood beside him. "It is strange that you came alone, without even Gimli the Dwarf." On Legolas' face there was no flicker of pain, or sorrow, and Thranduil took this as a sign that it was safe to continue. "Where is he?"

Legolas smiled slightly. "Among his people." His eyes glittered mischievously. "Were you worried?"

Thranduil almost sighed with relief. He should have known that any mention of the Dwarf would lift Legolas' spirits. Even if it was brief, it was better than leaving him in constant silence. 

The blond Sindarin king arched an eyebrow. "Worried, my son? For a dwarf? When you came without him, I feared something had happened to that cumbersome growth on his chin he is so proud of, and that he would never show his face in the Greenwood again!"

Legolas chuckled, but it was without the merriment he usually had. "I shall have to tell him when next I see him, Father. His must be the first beard to receive the concern of an Elf King."

A full two sentences. Thranduil was almost ready to start keeping track of their progress.

  


********

  


"You have not slept since you arrived, have you?"

Legolas looked down at his brother from where he was seated, high in a tree outside Thranduil's caves. Thranduil had been called away shortly on some other business. It was the first time in over a week that he had been separated from Legolas for more than an hour.

The crown prince of Eryn Lasgalen began to climb up easily. "It can't be good for you, brother. When was the last time you dreamt?"

Legolas waited until the other prince was hanging upside down in front of him before he shook his head with a small laugh. "When my mind wearies, it will take its rest."

Tufaer unhooked his legs from the limb and righted himself, so that they were facing one another. "You spoke! I cannot tell you what a relief it is that you have found your tongue again, Legolas." Then he frowned. "But am I right to assume from your answer, that you have gone long without 'taking rest'?"

Legolas lowered his gaze to the forest floor. When his brother's eyes stayed on him, uncomfortably long, he looked up and nodded. "Yea, you understood my words. But it does not feel long since I last slept, so I do not know why you worry."

Tufaer laughed and rocked back on his heels. "Of course it doesn't feel long to you! You are an Elf, Legolas; many things which ought to be long seem but a few minutes to us. But do not mistake that. Not feeling and not needing are quite different."

Legolas frowned at him slightly. "Should I mistrust what I feel, then?"

It was an unexpected reaction, but then, anytime this night that Legolas spoke was unexpected. Tufaer answered carefully, "No. Never should you mistrust what is in your heart; at least, that is what I have always believed. But what is it that you feel, dear brother?"

Legolas gazed at him, his eyes more closely resembling the sad wisdom of the Noldor than any Sindar or Silvan Elf. He climbed down from the tree without offering an answer.

  


********

  
  


"There have been Elves asking about you, Legolas."

Thranduil had found his son basking in the pale early morning light, and it reminded him why the prince had received the name Legolas, Green Leaf. The Elf always strove for brightness, and warmth, and he flourished in peace. This at least had not changed. And Legolas, who rarely found time to read, always made time for the Royal Library, where the sun poured in every hour of the day, speckling the room with floating golden dust, and aging the books and parchment. The room was the most inviting in Eryn Lasgalen.

The fair archer looked down from his perch, which was becoming the brightest spot in the room, and gave Thranduil a questioning look. 

Thranduil was many times Legolas' age, but he had never, and would never, lose the spry abilities of his youth. He climbed up to the secluded perch so quickly that a mortal wouldn't have seen it, and was met with a bemused grin. "I would swear to it that my family is made up of tree squirrels rather than Elves, Father."

Thranduil laughed. "I assume one of your brothers has paid you a visit?"

Legolas smiled. "Tufaer, yes. Is Lagiavas on an errand?"

Thranduil nodded. "He insists on busying himself in someway or another during this time of the year, and he wished for travel, so I sent him to Gondor with news. But alas, my curiosity does not wish to be contained. What reason do journeying Elves have to worry for you?"

Legolas sighed quietly; dust swirled around the disturbance. "I am afraid I have concerned many people." He turned his bright gray eyes to his father. "How would you know they worry for me? They do not know that I am here."

Under his son's stare, Thranduil felt unexplainably guilty. He tried to push it aside. "Lagiavas met up with them; they were on their way to meet with you, but he explained that you had come to Greenwood, and a message was left with him instead. He was not far out, so he returned and passed it to me. That was why I was called away last night."

Legolas gave him a faint smile, his eyes dancing a little. "Do not look so ashamed, Father. I knew already that you spy upon my affairs. My brothers warned me when I accepted my stewardship that, as the youngest, you would still seek to coddle me."

Thranduil folded his arms across his chest. "Truly. And here is something my greatest spies could not answer. How do the Elves under your care put up with your wit? Now come, tell me, why did they seek an audience with you? The message was less than formal; I feel that between your brother and the messenger, it has been shortened to this, 'Come to us soon, for the seasons are changing and there is much you would wish to hear'."

Legolas pondered it for a while, clearly understanding some other message than a simple invitation. Thranduil forced himself to be patient. At length, Legolas began, "Several years ago, I went to..." and then, Legolas stopped, and looked at his father. 

Thranduil felt the palpable, invisible distance between them lengthen. 

The prince began again, having rethought his words while attempting to make it seem he had not, "I met a large group of wanderers, Elves, nearly fifty years ago, and we became friends. It has been more than three years since we last spoke face to face, and there will be much for us to discuss." He sighed. "I have missed them, but I do not think I shall join them...not yet."

Thranduil started to prod, and point out that Legolas had not fooled him so easily, but he was stopped with, "I am weary, Father. I wish to retire to my room now. That is where I will be should you need me."

  


********

  
  


"They do not understand."

Legolas couldn't be sure if he said that aloud, or if it was even his own thought. It was simply true.

Night had come to the realm of Thraduil, but this was a place that never slept. Outside, below him and around him, Silvan Elves went about their work, or wandered with each other, laughing over new jokes, sharing stories.

The trees were strong and vibrant, steady with their deep roots. The love the Elves had for the trees was undying, and the union in Eryn Lasgalen was, to those who could be attuned to it, as sure and comforting as a child's security blanket would be. Everything in this kingdom was together, and loved the presence of the other beings.

Except for Legolas.

Those haunting words came back to his mind. 'Legolas Greenleaf, long under tree In joy thou hast lived. Beware of the Sea! If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore, Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more.'

Galadriel had been too kind in that warning. Or too vague...no, she hadn't been very vague. He had understood, on some level, what she was saying. But he had ignored her. Not blatantly ; but consequences came regardless of a pure intent.

His heart could not return to the forest. Not even when it should have recognized and rejoiced at the warmth of his homeland. But neither could his heart return to anywhere else in Middle earth.

And those West-bound Elves...what did they mean by tormenting him? How could they ask him such things? Had he not explained his purpose for remaining in this world?

In this world, with his family ; a phrase which extended to his friends, the Hobbits, Aragorn, and especially Gimli. 

This world...this world...this world.........

Where the beaches did not glitter with the sun, where that beautiful song was a forgotten memory, where the land was filled with more fear and anger and apathy than love. This world where the peoples in it found love only because they did not know joy!

A bitter sob choked the young prince, as he struggled with these strange, endlessly true thoughts.

It seemed to him that he stood away from the delicate, uniting web in this kingdom. Not above it...and yet no one knew he stood out from it. The web had been so strong. Could one instant really have pulled him loose of it? One sea bird? One cruel, soaring bird? It carried in its voice everything that reminded Legolas of the sea. 

But that was all it was, a reminder of the cool ocean, which was laid out like a map to Valinor.

For it was not the gull that summoned his heart, it was the city of the Valar, where he would no longer feel every undercurrent of lust and hatred and....fear...of death.

The walls Legolas had been bouncing between in his mind dropped without warning, as he finally allowed himself to think this last thought. The call was worse because of his fear. He knew it. But he also knew that if he left, the fear would...no, not be forgotten, but it would be soothed away back to Middle earth by the knowledge that everything would end up better.

And he would not see it. He would never have to face the cold stillness again. He would never wonder where the mortals went, or why he could not follow them.


	2. Conclusion

Author's Notes: Thank you so much for all the flattering reviews! Here is the second, and final, part; since Part One can stand on its own, if you liked it the way it was, then I guess you can ignore this one. But no, this half isn't any happier. I had most of it written out when I wrote Pt. One, AND I'm posting it for Hildestohl, because of the "More, more!" Don't ever say I don't love my readers! *g* Though you may hate me after this...hmm...

Longing

  


"Their time is so short here."

Lagiavas glanced at Legolas. "Mortals?" Legolas nodded. "Yes, sadly, that is true. But they breed like rabbits, so I won't bother to worry myself grey-haired about it."

Legolas gave him an almost-glare, for the almost-serious comment. His brother responded with a laugh. "I find you more lively than I thought you would be, Legolas. Father was quite worried about you, last I heard. I told him you would pull through, and I am pleased to see I was right."

Legolas, for the other Elf's sake, tried to look happy and at ease. "So did you enjoy your time away?"

Lagiavas grinned, and as he often did, he appeared even younger than Legolas. "Very much, brother, but I returned with a purpose, and so I do not miss the road. At least, not entirely."

Legolas returned the smile, hoping it appeared more cheerful than he felt. "Then I will try to make this worth your while. What will the winner be awarded with?"

Lagiavas slipped on his quiver, cast his eyes about the forest, and replied, "I have had my eye on that Lorien cloak of yours for quite sometime. I do hope you brought it."

The younger prince laughed and shook his head. "Why would I have? I cannot win something I already own. And if that is the way it is going to be, then I desire your fine white bow."

Lagiavas sputtered a protest. "No! And I see it is unfair to ask for those things, at least over such a simple competition. Very well. We shall wager something neither of us has but both of us could use."

Legolas adjusted his quiver. "I cannot think of anything like that." The glitter in his brother's eyes caught his attention. "You think of betting as we once did? Tell me, how can I be the youngest? You are more than a century my senior, yet you act like a child!"

Lagiavas sighed. "I suppose you're right. I will be leaving soon, anyway, and you would not have to opportunity to wait on me for the full three weeks. Which, by the way, was only three weeks last time because you and Tufaer protested making it any longer. A year is not so long a time. And my point is, you shouldn't accuse me of being childish, as you were the one who was afraid of the bet that I originally laid out."

Tufaer appeared. "Even when you shortened the course and the bet, I remember well that one of us came out of it with a broken wrist. It is amazing Legolas can still use his bow as well as he can after that; and Father was right to be angry with you. it is not an easy thing to break the bones of an Elf."

Lagiavas cocked his head. "Are you going to join us?"

Legolas almost laughed, first at the absurdity of the question, and then at their separate expressions; one of startled frustration, the other of feigned innocence. "No!" Tufaer said. "I am here to stop you two from breaking something else, like your necks!"

While at the same time, Lagiavas said, "Tufaer, honestly, who have you been listening to? Legolas has not fallen from a tree in over one thousand years-"

Immediately Tufaer exclaimed, "One thousand years? That was when he fell because of your daft competition!"

Thranduil's middle son waved away the accusation. "You were there as well, you saw what happened, and you can see that he is much more skilled now. I have never seen you fall, and I know that I will not. Legolas, I begin to doubt our elder brother's faith in you."

It was so easy now, to slip into other thoughts...but Legolas looked over to see Thranduil coming to them. 

The King noticeably forced his amusement away and replaced it with a firm scowl. "What is going on?" he demanded.

Legolas answered, "We have determined that I am the least juvenile among your sons."

  
  


********

  
  


"Father?"

Legolas had said nothing for several hours now, but Thranduil had become almost used to the lengthy silences. If nothing else, he had learned Legolas did not mind going without conversation, so long as someone was near him. It was one of the strangest things Thranduil had discovered after Legolas' return to Eryn Lasgalen ; the prince hated to be by himself now.

Legolas looked at the grand decorations, but his eyes were distant. They focused on the King for a moment, and then were turned away. "Are you proud of me?"

Thranduil didn't answer. This could easily have been misunderstood, and he knew it. But finding words to say, words that would actually voice what he felt each time his sons' names were even mentioned was to ask the impossible.

Legolas looked over at him, through the thick silence, and the King's expression was answer enough.

  
  


********

"I can't stay here any longer."

It was surprising that Legolas would say this, during such a large feast involving so many Elves from so many different realms. He sat at Thranduil's right hand, where Tufaer usually sat, and would have, had he been there.

Thranduil frowned, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

The earnest look in his eyes stopped Thranduil from saying anything more. "Thank you for allowing me to stay this long, Father. But I...I must go. Tomorrow morning, if I may." He was pushing himself up, trying not to draw attention to himself. "I will pack. I love you, Father. 

With that, Legolas was gone, leaving Thranduil to wonder just what had happened to change his son's mind so quickly.

  
  


********

  
  


"Where are you going?"

Legolas turned. Tufaer was regarding him curiously, looking over the horse that Legolas was preparing to mount. "I will return her, if that is what worries you," Legolas offered.

Tufaer stepped forward and offered the horse one of the many treats he brought with him whenever he came to the stables. "That is not what I asked. But if once you avoid a question, I have learned you will not answer it at all. Have you heard the news of King Elessar's health?"

Legolas swallowed hard. "Yes," he answered hoarsely. He swallowed again and said, more clearly, "I have heard."

Tufaer looked at him, and his eyes softened with compassion. "It is never easy to lose a friend."

Legolas shook his head. "I will lose two. Queen Arwen, I feel, does not wish to live past him."

His brother stepped back, allowing Legolas room to lead the horse out. "There are many here who would help you, in whatever way they could, myself and Lagiavas and Father especially. But I understand why you leave."

Legolas closed his eyes a moment and nodded. He looked back up at the crown prince, and neither moved. "I love you dearly, Tufaer. And I wish that Lagiavas had delayed his trip another night...I long to tell him..."

Tufaer gave him a perplexed half smile. "I will tell him for you, Legolas. Ride carefully."

Only one of them imagined Gondor as the ending of this journey, as Legolas promised quietly, "I will."

  
  


********

"But I never thought I would make this voyage alone."

Legolas knew, this time, that he had only thought it. To make up for his long silence, he murmured, "You will have to go back to my father's realm after this."

The horse, affectionately named Cabor by his older brothers for her love of jumping over things that at first glance appeared too high to clear, was almost tireless. She had carried him easily through the night and most of the day.

Arod, his old mount, had died several decades ago. Cabor had come from Greenwood one night, and Legolas had decided not to send her back. He rarely had need of a horse anymore, so his decision was made mostly by the fact that Cabor had made herself at home.

Legolas reflected on the thought that, at any other time, traveling anywhere near the sea would have caused such ridiculous thoughts as 'why must I face this torture', 'I must turn back', and even 'anything but this...'. 

Of course, up until now, he would have gone near the Sea only if he had no other choice. His only purpose now was to sail home.

Those Elves at the banquet had passed through Gondor. Aragorn's health was still failing him. It had occurred to Legolas that he was probably the only one of Elessar's closest friends who was absent. Even Gimli had gone.

The Elf sighed in resignation, wishing Cabor would ride faster, but he did not ask her to, and she continued to walk.

  
  


********

"The Havens!"

Legolas had stopped riding, so that Cabor could rest. On an impulse, he had climbed to the tops of the trees and stared West. Barely on the edge of even his vision, he could see a spot of glittering dark blue between distant mountains. 

He looked down at Cabor. "Rest well, my friend. But recover quickly."

The prince looked back into the horizon.

  
  


********

"Wait! Wait, you blasted Elf! Slow your horse and face me!"

Legolas was near to the Branduin River now. Not far off, to his eyes, it rolled and gurgled under the sun, as it cut its way West. Aside from the nervous edge with which he saw everything, the day would have been quite peaceful.

Well, and except for that voice. He thought he had been imagining the gruff cries, but now they were too near for him to ignore or shrug off.

Cabor stopped, curious to find what called them. Legolas already knew. "Gimli?"

A sturdy grey horse rode towards them, bearing a soldier in the armor of Gondor, and Gimli the Dwarf behind him. "You claim your ears are sharp, and yet I have nearly lost my voice, calling for you to stop!" The soldier halted and Gimli slid off. Legolas recovered from his surprise just long enough to dismount.

Gimli gave the horse he had been riding a scathing look and walked stiffly towards Legolas. "Where were you headed to, Master Elf? Gondor is East."

Legolas felt his mouth move; but he made no sound. His chest felt heavy. "Legolas?" Gimli took a step forward. "Legolas? What is it?"

Cabor nuzzled his hand; the warm velvet feel pulled him back, reassured him. "...Aragorn?" he managed.

Gimli, though confused by Legolas' reaction, answered still in his guttural but lighthearted manner, "He is in Gondor, and fully recovered, I may add, which is why I came to find you. After the way you reacted when I told you of his illness, I have done little but worry ; worry over you, worry about Aragorn, worry about Arwen. It's a mystery I am still alive and hale, Master Elf."

From that illness...it was life threatening; to go to Gondor was to wish Aragorn farewell. And Legolas could not do that ; but Aragorn was not dead... "He has recovered?"

Gimli mistook his disbelief. "Yes. Mortals, unlike you strange Elves, deal often with illness; even Aragorn, unfortunately, now that he is getting on in age. Yet I suspect he has many years ahead of him, and I'm not alone in that suspicion."

If Aragorn was not dead, then Legolas was still needed here. Someday, they would go through this again; losing Aragorn, and Arwen, and then Merry and Pippin as well. 

He could not even bear the thought of losing Gimli, and so, involuntarily included him in the list of those who would see the end of this world. "...Years...?" Legolas whispered. Gimli frowned at the changing relief, surprise, and sorrow on the Elf's face. "But he will still die..."

Gimli knew Legolas had seen death before, including in their friends, and he could not guess at what it was that caused the Elf so much pain. "Yes he will, but years from now," was the only thing he could think to say.

And Legolas the Elf looked over his shoulder, at something far too distant for other's eyes to see, and wept.

  
  
  
  


'Cabor': means 'frog'. 'Tufaer' means (roughly) 'strong spirit'. 'Lagiavas' means 'warm autumn', but I took a 'u' out of 'laug'.

As a final note...apologies for the sudden ending, but...hey, I explained in Part One!


End file.
